A Chance at Recovery
by amelieelizabet
Summary: George is left bereft after Fred's death, and after two years Hermione takes it upon herself to help him get back on his feet. Contains fluff, loss, healing and a tiny little witch called Ash. OC
1. Chapter 1

It was rather difficult to explain the way George felt without Fred. It was like half of his soul was missing. He couldn't eat as much anymore, in fact he barely ate at all, and he couldn't sleep because of the empty bed on the other side of the room. There was no longer anything that shocked him mid-morning on Sunday, which was when Fred used to do his experiments and create new, albeit explosive products to put in the shop below. It was empty in the flat, and lonely.  
>It wasn't as though his family hadn't tried to help - he had been dragged out and plied with Firewhiskey until he forgot his own name, let alone Fred's. He had been recommended by Harry to go to a Muggle councilor, who had told him that it was blame that he threw at himself from Fred's death that left him feeling this way even three years after his death. Hermione had a different idea altogether, and was now living with him, cat and all.<br>It was strange for George to suddenly have a companion day and night, even though he had craved someone close for so long. It wasn't that he resented her one for not being his twin, if anything he was glad of the company, but he hadn't ever had many females in his flat, to visit let alone stay for any length of time.

There were bad days, and there were horrific days. Sometimes he couldn't get out of bed and open up their shop, others he could just about plaster a false grin on his face and manage the bustling customers for a few hours before relinquishing control of the floor to his new assistant, a small Muggleborn called Ash, who had been a star when George himself couldn't cope.

It was one of those horrific days when Hermione decided to take matters into her own hands, and for this, she needed the best of help.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: So here's more! I apologise for the delay, but my creativeness has not being cooperating with me. Grrr... R&R! Love, _Amelie x_

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><p>Ashette Freeman had always been a free-spirited young girl – born three years after the Golden Trio and living in America with her Muggle parents, she had been uninterested in British Wizarding news and had kept her head down, studying at Salem Witches' Institute and gaining all the qualifications she desired, though she had no clear idea of what she wanted to have a career in. When her family broke apart and her parents divorced in the June of 1998, they moved to opposite sides of the USA, and she stayed in Chicago, her home town, working as a waitress and journalist until she had saved enough to fly, the Muggle way, to London, England in August two years later. It was there that she stumbled gracefully upon George Weasley.<p>

It had been a bad day for the ginger; he had barely managed to pull himself from his bed, let alone deal with the usual floods of customers, and it happened to be a particularly busy summer's day when Ash fell through the door, smiling brightly at the shop. George was near breaking point, high up on the balcony, fearful of the throng that swarmed below him, and the young American had taken one look at him and waved. She had seen the posters outside of the 'Weasley Twins', and had seen the news once she had arrived about the war, and the deaths, noting that this one man must have lost his brother. She joined him up on the ledge for a moment, surveying the shop layout, and squeezing his arm gently, before she was back down in the mass, directing people and helping. When closing time arrived she shook George's hand, gave him a magically made cup of tea, and left.

The pattern continued for two weeks before George spoke to her, thanking her profusely for her help. School had started and the crowds were dying down slightly, but it was still busy. She told him it was nothing, just something she wanted to do to get the feel of British Wizards, but accepted the tea he made her in return. Over the next week she would find herself staying longer, until they were on the plush chairs up on the balcony, tea and biscuits in hand, when dark had fallen. It was then that George offered her a permanent position as Shop assistant, and paid her for all the work she had done so far. Walking her to her hotel, she knew she had made a friend.

It was in this way she met Hermione – recently the war-wearied witch had moved in with her boss, after an amicable split with George's brother, Ron. It seemed, from what Ash understood, that although they had loved each other dearly in the war, now that they were free to pursue their own careers and lives, their priorities vastly differed. Ron had moved to America to get a taste of life that didn't involve being in the shadow of the Brain and the Chosen One, though there were no hard feelings. Hermione lived with George to be close to the Ministry, to commute to her department of the Treatment of Magical Creatures, and to keep George company when the nights were bad, Ash suspected.

Hermione had fast become a friend to the American, taking the hour she got for lunch to visit the shop, bringing delicious gifts for them both to munch on behind then till. They had many conversations on various subjects, and this bitter October morning was no different, but Hermione had taken a much more alternative topic to bring up.

"So, what's going on between you and George?" She asked, offering a homemade Pumpkin Pasty as she scribbled down a new idea for legislation on Doxies. Ash looked up from her book in surprise, before taking the treat and shrugging.

"He's my boss, sweets. We have a nice time, and he's really starting to come out of his shell with me, but I doubt that there's going to be anything between us. I mean, he's a war hero four years older than me who's still grieving the death of his twin. I respect the _hell_ out of him, and yeah, he's so good looking its untrue, especially the fact that he's oddly asymmetric with his one ear, but I know he'd never feel anything for me. Funnily enough, though, I don't mind." She tucked a strand of ash blonde hair behind her ear, smiling absently. "I love this country, and working here, knowing you both… I would never want to ruin anything with stupid comments that will just make George run back to his hole and never come out again." Hermione looked shocked to see that there was no sadness in Ash's voice, only acceptance for what she thought she knew could never happen.

"I know this sounds odd, honey, but George has been grieving for the past two years, and won't stop until he finds someone to help him out of the rut he finds himself in. I'm reluctant to do anything because I know he'll always think of me as his little brother's best friend, but you met him on your own terms. You are possibly his first friend that knows him as one half of Gred and Forge, and still like him wholly. It's a special relationship, and I really hope you can develop it. I know you like him; I can see it in your eyes." Hermione grinned softly before brushing crumbs off her blouse. She rose to her feet and grabbed her papers, hugging the small blonde. "I have to get back to the office, but after work this lovely guy, Arthur, is taking me out for a meal." She blushed delicately. "Do something more than tea, tonight. If I'm not there George won't eat, so perhaps conjure up some of your gorgeous home cooking and surprise him. Just," Hermione paused, looking sad. "Just try and get him to smile again, Ash. That's all I ask." With a wave, she left.

It seemed Ashette Freeman had found her place in Wizarding London. Now, to find her way into George Weasley's heart.


End file.
